


All The Years You Have Lived

by dragons_and_angels



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Blowjobs, Episode: s01e04 Of Banquets Bastards and Burials, Established Sexual Relationship, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:22:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21991132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragons_and_angels/pseuds/dragons_and_angels
Summary: The scene where Jaskier rubs camomile into Geralt's lovely bottom.Pre Episode 4.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 40
Kudos: 1679





	All The Years You Have Lived

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I had to do this scene. It was calling me, even more than fix it fic for their fight. 
> 
> British spellings used partly because I have to write a lot for work and partly because I could not read 'chamomile' over and over again when editing. Small warning for Jaskier mentioning past bad sexual experiences.

When asked, Jaskier would talk and talk around the subject, never fully denying or confirming anything, merely talking enough until the other person gives it up as a bad job. If they asked Geralt, they would be a fool. However, despite the fact neither of them hid it particularly, they were never asked about it. Something which Jaskier could only consider to be a good thing since, for once, he did not know how to explain it. Asked or not, it existed all the same. 

One night they had been placed in an inn which was everything they could hope for in an inn - clean, good food and the innkeeper considered a witcher's coin as good as anyone else's. There had only been the one room available but it was one of only two rooms on the third and was far more spacious than either of them were used to. Jaskier had settled down to getting the room in the order he liked, humming 'Toss a Coin to your Witcher' as he did so while Geralt had gone to one of the activities he did when there was a lockable door between them and the outside world, cleaning and sharpening his sword. The sound was far more soothing than it had any right to be. 

"Toss a coin to your witcher," Jaskier sang as he turned down the bedspread. There was only one bed in this room but considering how close they had become, it would be easy enough to share. Luckily it was wide enough even with Geralt's girth taking up two thirds of it and the sheets appeared worn, but clean. By the end of his travels, Jaskier was tempted to write a song about the best and worst inns on their travels. What rhymed with 'murderous cats'? 

"Bard," Geralt said, Jaskier immediately turning despite himself. 

"Jaskier," he said, though without the hope Geralt would use it. There were very few times when Geralt had used his name and Jaskier was faintly worried he was going to start having a trained response to his own name in that voice. 

"The oil," Geralt said as he put his sword away. His facial expression barely changed but Jaskier suddenly felt like lightning sparked inside of him. He hastened to get the oil as Geralt stepped up to the bed and stripped. It was a sight Jaskier never got used to and he took a few minutes, camomile oil in hand, to admire Geralt's physique as he bent over to climb onto the bed. Jaskier had been with many beautiful people and Geralt certainly could not rank up with them, but there was something about his body which drew Jaskier in more than anything else. Maybe it was because he was Geralt and despite his strength, he would not hurt Jaskier, or maybe because he had seen what that obvious strength was used for. 

Geralt cast him a look over his shoulder, his expression saying disinterest at the same time as the heat from his gaze was burning Jaskier inside out. He moved forward and climbed onto the bed with Geralt, being watched the whole time. He kissed Geralt, something quick and chaste by his standards, and Geralt put his head into the pillows and closed his eyes. 

The level of trust was overwhelming. Yes, Geralt had his sword in reach and the door was locked, but he lay down on his front and trusted Jaskier behind his back. 

Jaskier poured some of the oil onto his left hand and warmed it between his palms. Without putting his hands down, he climbed onto the bed and straddled Geralt's magnificent thighs, knowing full well if Geralt even had a hint of a threat from outside, he was going to be thrown onto the floor without any further care. It was worth it. 

After he was in place, he took a few moments to look. These moments took so long that Geralt looked around at him again, annoyance plain on his face. 

Jaskier knew exactly what he was asking. "Well, I could either look at you or start to compose a poem. Which would you prefer?" Geralt grumbled and turned his face back into the pillow but Jaskier could see the tips of his ears turned a slight pink. Geralt didn't do anything as embarrassing as blushing, but Jaskier had been with him long enough to see the signs and this was the perfect view to look for them. 

He smoothed his oiled hands up Geralt's back, feeling the bumps and dips of old scars and battle wounds, before dipping down to smooth his hands over Geralt's impressive behind. His skin was warm and Jaskier had to swallow, ashamed to find himself drooling. In order to distract himself, he started to hum a soothing tune which he was pretty sure had been a lullaby at one point. Geralt relaxed further under Jaskier's hands and he wondered if Geralt was going to fall asleep underneath him. 

He took the time to explore Geralt's back and bottom, using the privacy and relative safety to its full advantage. The more he explored, the more he wants nothing more than to sink into Geralt. It was unbelievable that one man could have had such an effect on him. Jaskier loved freely and willingly but he could not use that word to talk about Geralt. He was becoming far more of a constant to Jaskier and no matter how many times they split apart, they would always come back together. 

Geralt groans, the vibration underneath Jaskier's hands startling him and caused him to pull back, rocking back on his heels. His thighs were starting to burn. 

"Jaskier, do something," Geralt ground out, his voice hoarse and sharp with frustrated arousal. Suddenly the arousal Jaskier had safely put to the back burner for the massage came roaring back. 

He stripped off his shirt hastily, though he made sure it was laid over the trunk at the end of the bed. "Turn over, Geralt. I want to taste." Another moan from the man trapped on the bed and Jaskier felt a heady sense of power. He pulled himself up, so Geralt could turn over and was rewarded with the sight of a very turned on Geralt. He was aroused, his prick as thick and large as the rest of him. It made Jaskier's mouth water and he lay down on the bed, head level with Geralt's hips, and swallowed Geralt's prick. 

Before Geralt, Jaskier had tried this with exactly two men before. One had come and then blamed his quick orgasm on Jaskier for looking like a girl, which had offended Jaskier greatly. He may not be built like Geralt but he certainly didn't look like a girl. The other one had been forceful, rough as he had grabbed Jaskier's hair and forced his head up and down on his prick. As soon as it was safe, Jaskier had left him and during his wandering, had found Geralt. Then he had found out that he loved sucking Geralt almost more than anything else, maybe because he was always allowed to go at his own pace.

Jaskier watched, as his mouth sank down on Geralt's prick, as the man himself clenched large hands into fists of the sheets. Every relaxed muscle was now tense but it was worth it to see the passion twist at Geralt's face, squeezing his eyes shut and letting that mouth open on a pant. Jaskier sucked and hummed and licked as much as he could before a lack of air forced him to pull off. He panted against Geralt's skin and used the chance to kiss both inner thighs and let his fingers, still slick from oil, dance over Geralt's entrance. So far Jaskier had always been the one getting fucked but last time Geralt had made his usual very subtle methods of implying that he might like it the other way around. 

Geralt shifted and moaned, those famous eyes opening and taking Jaskier in. He felt like he was under a microscrope, but one where he felt like he had to offer a slaughtered calf on the altar. Jaskier sucked Geralt down without breaking eye contact and this finally got him Geralt's hands coming to rest on his head. It had taken weeks of persuasion before Geralt would do this and even now, he merely coaxed Jaskier down, the pressure light enough that he would be able to pull away if he wanted to. Jaskier had told him nothing of the previous men but either Geralt had picked on his nerves the first time, or he treated all his lovers with the same considerate gentleness. 

Jaskier told himself firmly that he wasn't jealous of any of Geralt's previous lovers and went back to what he was doing. He swiped his tongue under the head of Geralt's prick firmly just as he softened his lips around him at the same time. Jaskier had learned Geralt loved the contrast of rough and gentle and this time he was rewarded with a low moan from Geralt. He was very vocal this evening, maybe encouraged by the privacy or maybe Jaskier had gotten that good at Geralt. 

His own cock was throbbing but he had one hand on Geralt's thigh and the other pressing oiled fingers against Geralt's entrance so all he could do was rub against the bed, torturing himself with just enough friction. 

Muscles clenched underneath his left hand as his fingers breached Geralt's entrance. There was a grunt from above him and when he raised his eyes upwards, not letting go of the prick in his mouth, Geralt had his head thrown back and an expression which could be called pain on anyone else. The first time Jaskier had seen it, he had stopped what he was doing, concerned from Geralt, only to be barked at for questioning Geralt. Jaskier had found it more amusing than anything else but it was an important lesson in all that was Geralt. 

Now he continued, mouth gentle on Geralt's prick and one finger slowly moving inside of Geralt. He thrusted gently with the appendage and Geralt squirmed in a way Jaskier knew he himself had done more than once. It seemed far too innocent for the all-powerful witcher but Jaskier quickly banished that thought from his mind. He would not fall into the same trap as everyone else and assume Geralt was inhuman enough to never be vulnerable. 

It took him a few minutes but he brushed against the side of Geralt's entrance and was rewarded with Geralt thrusting up into his mouth in an uncharacteristic rudeness. Those magnificent golden eyes open, an apology already in them but Jaskier quickly brushed against the same spot and Geralt's eyes fell closed again when he groaned, low and loud. 

The sound would play in Jaskier's fantasies. If he could produce anything half as pleasing to hear in his own music, he would be delighted. Until then it was all for him. 

It was not long after that before Geralt tapped a warning on the top of his head and Jaskier ignored him, instead moving himself into a position so that when Geralt came, it went directly down Jaskier's throat. The taste was bitter and more than a little unpleasant but Jaskier swallowed it down anyway. It had never tasted nice no matter how many times he had done it and he knew how good it felt when someone stayed on throughout the orgasm. 

Jaskier let Geralt slip from his mouth when he was finished and pushed himself up into a sitting position, practically shaking from arousal. Geralt coming was one of the hottest sights ever and he wouldn't be surprised if even the naked Countess de Stael could live up to it. 

He had barely slipped a hand into his undergarments when Geralt's eyes opened and he was on Jaskier faster than anyone else could move after coming that hard. His large, callused hand replaced Jaskier's own and he was left at Geralt's mercy, trying to convince his arms to hold him up from where Geralt was lying. 

"Geralt," Jaskier said in a strangled voice. He couldn't hold on much longer, he was going to come all over that hard, muscled chest. 

"Come on then, Jaskier," Geralt said in the tone of voice he used when he thought Jaskier was being slow on their journey. To hear it in this context - it sparked desire in a way Jaskier did not want to examine too closely. 

He came and the world narrowed down to just him and Geralt for a few moments. Jaskier was not sure how long it was before he came back to himself but when he did, it was to Geralt wiping his stomach with a rag from an old shirt of his. Jaskier wanted to voice regret that he had not been treated to the sight of Geralt marked with his come but for once, he was speechless. 

After he had regained his senses, he flopped down on the bed beside Geralt, too exhausted and floppy to even think about getting up to rinse his mouth out. Geralt smelled of sweat, sex and camomile and it would take a stronger man than Jaskier to resist the urge to move closer and breathe in through his nose. He was afraid he would have a conditioned response to the scent of camomile now.

"Jaskier, move." Geralt's gruff voice was softened after climax but it still had the vestiges of grumpiness Jaskier knew and loved so well. He made a protesting sound and burrowed into the line between the sheet and Geralt's skin. There was almost a gleeful childishness to it but Jaskier knew better than to smile. Geralt was relaxed as Geralt could be and Jaskier was comfortable.

"So be it," Geralt said and Jaskier wondered what he was planning on doing, after all Geralt of Rivia did not give up so easily. He had barely finished the thought when Geralt's arms were around him and he was flying through the air. Jaskier landed on the bed, his eyes open and a far too interested prick for someone who only came minutes before. He turned his head to look at Geralt, now on the side of the bed facing the door, but he just lay down on his side, his back facing Jaskier. It meant he couldn't see his expression but he could only bet that he was looking far too pleased with himself. 

Then again, having Geralt between the door and him could only be a good thing and he had moved Jaskier in a way that was not only relatively gentle, but had also stirred up some interesting questions for Jaskier. He had been pushed around so many times in his life but had never had a reaction like that. Maybe it was because he knew Geralt would never truly hurt him so him throwing Jaskier around was merely banter between a man and his bard. Although now he had the image of Geralt throwing Jaskier up against a wall and pressing him against it with his chest and his arms and his legs... 

Jaskier shook his head at himself. Geralt was almost asleep in front of him and would not appreciate Jaskier doing anything other than sleep right now. Instead of doing what he really wanted to do -- which was plaster himself up against Geralt's behind and rub off against him like he was a boy all over again -- he reached towards the foot of the bed and pulled two of the blankets up and over the two of them. 

After he was settled with both the blankets over them, though he knew Geralt would push his off sometime in the night and provide a glorious view for Jaskier in the morning, he brushed a kiss over the shoulder blade of the back in front of him. Geralt didn't say anything, he never did, but Jaskier took this as permission. 

Sometimes he wished things could stay as they were. Jaskier and Geralt travelling around, slaying monsters and composing songs. Things would change, Geralt couldn't help but get involved no matter what he said, but Jaskier could only hope he would be allowed to stay with him as they did so.


End file.
